


Boarding Action

by LewdCookies



Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Astra Militarum | Imperial Guard (Warhammer 40.000), Bad Puns, Blow Jobs, Consensual, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Erotica, F/M, Femdom, Foot Jobs, Gratuitous Smut, Imperial Navy (Warhammer 40.000), Licking, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:34:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29322492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LewdCookies/pseuds/LewdCookies
Summary: "As I understand it, dealings between the Guard and Navy mostly tend to boil down to the Navy saying Jump and the Guard asking 'into what hanger bay'."
Relationships: Imperial Navy/Astra Militarum | Imperial Guard, Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 21





	Boarding Action

It was summer here, apparently.  
A series of bright flashes lit up the clouds before a bolt suddenly raced down from the sky to strike a spire across the bay. The brief, but intensive, flash left ghostly afterimages on his retinas and the muted clap of thunder sounded like a distant artillery strike. All the while heavy rain sluiced against the panorama window that filled up most of the ballroom’s outer wall. 

Without the storm, Major Michel Van Achthoven figured that the view from the governor’s mansion was spectacular; Torvus City enveloping the bay and spreading further inland. The only thing that he could see now, through the downpour and approaching night, was blurry lights and vague outlines.

The 182 Elysian was on its sixth month of its garrison posting on the world of Bryyo. The regiment had been retraining and refitted while waiting for the Navy Battlegroup _De Dominio Maris Astral_ to arrive, with the goal of conducting pirate sweeps in the surrounding region.  
Thankfully, the Emperor had smiled upon them and the ships belonging to the Battlegroup had arrived last week at their translation point. Yesterday the ships arrived in orbit, and in celebration the planetary governor had arranged a welcoming ball in their honor. As part of the Regimental officer corps, such an event demanded attendance. A part of him wanted to stay back at the headquarters to oversee the momentous task of embarkation.

Frowning, he turned his attention back inside. The interior of the governor’s palace was like what he had seen before elsewhere; that same vulgar ostentation that the wealthy mistook for good taste. Crystal, gilt and garish tapestries of ancient battles or smug-looking primarchs and saints strewn all over the room. It reminded him of the things one could find in pirate cargo holds.  
The sounds of conversations and murmurs were a constant buzz underneath the notes of the band playing _Into the wild black yonder_. Guests stood clustered together in small groups as servants glided through the crowd, slipping unnoticed through the soft patter of voices like sharks around shoals of fish.  
Everyone he saw looked young and perfect. His eyes lingered briefly on a woman standing nearby. She was tall and slim, with long flowing hair coloured a shade of neon blue that made him think of the chameleon-screens in the city. She had flawless skin as pale as porcelain. Her eyes, augmented and surrounded by gilded metal, were the same shade of vivid blue. The slitted dress she wore was the colour of the void and it clung tightly to her curves. The one next to her had obvious Mechanicus improvements. Their short hair coloured a bright neon green and their skin coloured a deep bronze, tattoos covering any exposed area.  
The excess of youthfulness and refinement around made him feel self-aware about his own rugged appearance. Not to mention the large scar on his right cheek, the mark courtesy of a glancing Eldar sword. Like an old gnarled tree in a garden of roses.

Slowly he began circulating widely on the floor, feeling a sense of restlessness grip him. He steered his steps towards the far end of the room where food and drinks lined from one end to the other, his glass of amasec in need of replenishment. Underneath his feet, the soft carpeting made his boots sink in, the discomforting sensation not unlike moving through soft mud.  
As he walked, he picked up snippets of conversations. Most of it the usual small talk and courteous backbiting between nobles. But also a few colourful and innuendo laden comments about the honored guests that made him briefly grin.

Whilst in a brief discussion with some local dignitaries he spotted his commanding officer, General Eloise Semain, holding court amongst a group of nobles. The raven haired, sharp featured woman surrounded by men and women alike. Their eyes met briefly, his superior giving him an acknowledging nod before resuming whatever anecdote of previous campaigns she was currently holding them spellbound with. Based on the queasy looks on some of their faces, it could have been how to best disembowel a heretic with a chainsword. Regardless, she appeared to enjoy herself greatly. 

A group of noblewomen blocked his path as they crossed the floor, some throwing coquettish looks in his direction from behind their fans as they walked past. He smiled and gave them a shallow bow which set off a burst of giggles. Some members of the posse had their attention elsewhere.  
Standing near a large crystal fountain was the planetary governor, Azarach Xerxes Sabanth, surrounded by a retinue of hangers-on and nobles. The governor was an amicable man, he briefly recalled. Possessing one of those faces that fell just short of being conventionally handsome to seem warm and approachable, while still being good looking enough to attract attention. Something which mustn’t have come cheap. He could never directly pinpoint the governor’s age during their sporadic interactions; late forties, or early fifties if he was to hazard a guess. But there was something about his eyes that made him think it was probably two or three times that.  
The man was in a deep discussion with someone he recognized as the commander of the Navy battlegroup, Lord Admiral Ashbourne-Yorke. The admiral looked like had recently walked out from a Navy recruitment poster with his rugged appearance and salt and pepper hair trimmed in accordance to regulations. Several medals and commendations adorned the chest of his crisp uniform. Compared to the governor he looked far older, but knowing the vagrancies of warp travel, the difference between the two in age could have been negligible. 

Draining the last of his amasec, he deposited the empty glass on a passing tray. He glimpsed High Marshal Drake, Semain’s executive officer, as he made the dance floor his battlefield. That the man danced so well routinely surprised him, being otherwise known for his unflappable disposition. Regardless, the noblewoman in his arms seemed to enjoy his company greatly as she accompanied his every move with an equal amount of grace. But he could see the looks she was giving him even from where he stood.  
However, it seemed as if not everyone appreciated his performance. A red-haired naval officer dancing right next to him kept giving Drake several jealous looks.  
Either way, he doubted that either of the regiment’s top officers would spend the night in their assigned quarters. Or alone for that part.  
Any such prospects were not in his immediate future, he thought grimly, knowing full well that he had a growing pile of dataslates to review.  
A servant silently slid up to him, a single glass of amber liquid on a silver tray.

“Pardon me, sir. This is for you,” The servant spoke eloquently, bringing the tray towards with a sweeping gesture and not spilling a drop. After he took the glass, the servant deftly tucked the tray under their armpit before speaking again. “Courtesy of the lady over there.”

With another sweeping gesture the servant pointed towards a woman standing in the shadow of a statue of Saint Mina. As their eyes met, she raised her own glass in greeting, to a gesture he responded in kind. Feeling his curiosity piqued, he turned his steps towards her. Pale green eyes tracking him as he moved.  
She had short cropped silvery hair and light brown skin. Despite her slim figure, she filled out the Navy dress blues she wore. In stark contrast to the Lord Admiral’s, and other naval officers in the room, crisp uniforms, hers carried a wilder edge to it. Several of the buttons on her blue sleeveless coat undone and the sleeves of her undershirt neatly rolled up. Both her arms were mechanical, gold and silver inlays on the obsidian limbs glimmered in the light. A dark purple sash hung clung onto her slender hips. As he got closer, he noticed various baubles and trophies hanging off it. Some were of obvious Eldar origin; a wraithbone talisman, a delicately carved crystal on a cold chain. Others were of obvious xenos origin, but nothing he could recognize.  
She smiled as he approached, as if approving what she saw. Turning towards him, the gold threads of her Navy coat caught the light. Images depicting ancient naval vessels interspersed with benedictions to the Omnissiah gleamed briefly. A sign she came from a family with strong ties to both the Mechanicus and the Navy.

“My tha-”  
He had barely a chance to speak before she cut him off.

“So you’re Major Van Achtoven,” She said bluntly. Her low gothic laced with a sing-song accent, the way she pronounced the S in the beginning sounded like a sharp saber strike. “I thought you were taller.”

Truthfully, he was at least a head taller than her, his athletic body looking practically bulky compared to her slim figure.  
Her sudden forwardness caught him off guard for a moment, but rallying quickly, he gave her a slight smile. “Must've lost a few inches in the wash.”

There was a flicker of emotion in her pale green eyes, but otherwise her face didn’t betray any reaction.  
She possessed the fine facial features of a noble. Up closer, he noticed her skin carried a slight green-ish hue to it. A rather obvious sign that she had recently made planetfall. Not that it made her any less striking. A fringe of hair covered the Navy issue augmentics on her temple. But she made sure it hadn’t hidden the service pin above her eyebrow. Clearly wanting to show that she had dedicated almost three decades of her life in service to the Imperial Navy.  
She continued speaking.

“I’ve heard the stories about the boarding of _The Chain of Thorns_. Impressive work,” There was another appreciative smile on her lips. “Very impressive.”

He gave her a nod in reply. Withholding any comment about how brutal the fighting onboard the pirate cruiser had been in reality. The presence of the xenos mercenaries onboard had been an unexpected, and nasty, surprise.  
But he knew the stories had a tendency to exaggerate things. Sometimes it had been Ork Freebootaz, other times it had been Eldar Corsairs. He was on the verge of asking her which stories she had heard when she continued.

“In particular, after the Groevian Fiends made itself known. Despite that…” She paused for a moment, as if she was looking for the right word. Or she was pausing for dramatic effect. “Complication, you still seized the bridge. A very impressive display of flexibility and initiative taking.”

He masked his surprise at her getting the mercenaries correct with a brief nod. It appeared as if she had heard about it from some reliable sources. 

“I also heard that you killed the Gorevian commander in personal combat on the bridge.”

Something about the way she said it hinted at that she was testing him. He kept his expression neutral as he replied. “From what I can recall, the commander died during the opening assault. Who killed him I can’t say.”

There was another flicker in her eyes, as if his reply had been satisfactory. It had been the truth either way. There were plenty of boasts circulating amongst the men in the regiment about who had done it, even amongst the officers. But ultimately it did not matter.  
With the way she held herself, it was obvious she had a lot of experience in these matters. Clearly being a captain who preferred to lead in person.  
She held out a hand for him to shake. Despite its mechanical nature, the arm moved with perfect fluidity. As she moved, the coat appeared to struggle around her chest. Etched gold patterns on the back and on the wrist got briefly caught in the light.  
The grip was firm, the type that brokered no doubts she was a woman who got what she wanted. 

“Tarriel Eleonora Corvinius, Captain of the _Fiat Lux_.”

“A pleasure,” He smiled in return. “And a pleasure to have a face to the name.”

She raised a thin eyebrow at him. “So you’ve heard of me?”

“I like to keep myself informed,” He replied. “It helps with cooperation if you know a thing or two about the ship and its crew.”

“How admirable of you,” She sipped her drink, and he followed suit, finding it a very pleasant vintage. “Anything of particular note you’ve heard?”

There was a smile on her lips again, but that was obviously a distraction from the sharp, inquisitive look in her eyes. The Captain was clearly keen on testing him further, and he was interested enough in her to take the bait.

“The interdiction of two Ork Kill Kroozers near Skye stands out. Very efficient usage of the Dauntless speed and mobility to keep both Ork ships at bay despite being at a disadvantage. Not to mention you crippled both ships without sustaining major damage, an impressive display of captaining.”

As much as she would’ve liked to hide it, the smile on her face grew as he spoke. There was a flicker of approval in her eyes. Despite the aloof face she put up, she was still susceptible to flattery.

“You seem to know your things, Major.”

He gave her a shrug. “The regiment has been here for six months now, Captain Corvinius. I’ve had plenty of time to read.”

She laughed, a warm, smoky chuckle that carried over the buzz of the crowds, before giving him a gentle, dismissive wave. “Please, call me Tarriel. No need to be formal.”

“Of course, my apologies.” He said. The brief flash of amusement in her eyes told him she had set him up, and he had walked right into it. 

“Apology accepted,” She said with a brief mischievous smile before draining the last of her glass. “But it seems like I need a refill. Care to join me? I believe you were heading there, anyway.”

The ghost of another smile quirked at the corner of her mouth as she spoke, her interception of him before he reached his goal clearly pleased her. He smiled and gave her a shallow bow; the gesture eliciting another soft laugh from her.

“It would be a pleasure Tarriel.”

The rest of the evening passed with surprising ease as he found Tarriel to be an interesting conversational partner. The woman possessing a razor sharp wit that more often caught him unawares, but was still easy going enough as not to appear haughty or stuffy. Rather unlike other Naval Captain’s that he’d encountered in the past.  
They found a seat amongst some tables in a corner of the ballroom. The space was mostly empty, aside from a couple who had skipped directly to the afterparty and a noble who had clearly had too much to drink already.  
The topics they discussed ranged from what to expect in the upcoming joint operations and tactics, to books and amusing anecdotes from service life and more in between. The discussions laced with more than a few sly innuendos as they steadily warmed up to each other. Especially after a couple of glasses of amasec had loosened them up a little. The way she glanced at him, not to mention how more buttons on her coat slowly became undone, was one of many signs that there were some sparks between them. He had admittedly stolen more than a few glances at her features as they had spoken.  
It wasn’t until he noticed the crowds thinning out that he realized the event was ending. In the corner of an eye he noticed Semain, her arms around the waists of two noblewomen, heading for the entrance. She caught his eye and gave him a brief nod, as if telling him to enjoy the rest of the night. Where Drake had gone he didn’t know, not that he didn’t have some ideas.  
It appeared as if Tarriel had noticed the same thing as she drained the last of her glass, in a manner that would most likely left some nobles aghast if they had seen it, before almost slamming it down onto the table. If she had noticed his momentary distraction, she didn’t show it before turning her attention to him.

There was an innocuous smile on her face as Tarriel leaned forwards. Her coat struggled with her chest as it pressed against the table. “I have a suggestion, Major.”

“I’m listening.” 

He could feel one of booted feet brushing by his shin, trying to keep a straight face as it began caressing his leg.

“Considering that things are coming to a close here, care to join me for a drink or two at my quarters? I’d be curious to hear about what happened onboard the _Chain of Thorns_. In _explicit_ detail.” 

The sides of her mouth curled upwards and there was a mischievous spark in her eyes as she pronounced the last part. The words rolled off her tongue like honey-laced amasec. The foot slid up higher towards his thigh. He kept his face straight all the while, years of experience in dealing with other officers assisting him in keeping his cool. He teased her a little by looking as if he was mulling over her generous offer, before giving her a nod.

“Of course, it’d be a _pleasure_ ,” He smiled at her slyly, grunting slightly when he felt the tip of her boots press against his groin. Now it was her turn to smile as she saw his reaction. “Do you have transport?”

Tarriel shook her head. “I came as part of the Admirals entourage and I believe he’s left by now,” She gave him a wry smile. “Probably already gone back to headquarters to work.”

A fate the Emperor had seen fit to spare him from, he thought with a small measure of relief.

“Then we’ll take my car.”

Turning to look the other way, he activated the commbead in his ear. 

“Nix, bring the car up.”

The only thing he heard on the other side was silence.

“Nix? You there?”

There were a few more moments of silence before he heard a reply. The light feminine voice on the other side sounding slightly out of breath.

“Sorry sir, I got distracted by… things.”

“Is the staff car still there?”

“Yes sir, neither General Semain nor High Marshal Drake requested it.”

Guess they got a ride with someone else then, he figured.

“Very well, bring the car up to the front. We’re leaving.”

“We, sir?” A slight undercurrent of mirth crept into the voice on the other side.

“Nevermind that, just bring the car up.”

“Yes sir, it’ll be ready in three-” There was a grunt, and he thought he heard something else in the background he couldn’t make out. “Make that four minutes.”

He frowned. “Understood.”

Michel turned around to find an amused smile on Tarriel’s lips. He gave her an exaggerated sigh. “So hard to find excellent help these days.”

The smile turned into a slight smirk as she gave him a knowing nod.

True to her word, Nix had the car standing at the palace entrance in four minutes. The canvas canopy strung above their heads protected them from the downpour that continued unabated. The car had barely come to a stop before she had stepped outside to open the passenger door for him and Tarriel. 

She gave them an exaggerated bow. “Your car, sir.”

Nixias Hummel, or Nix, served as his personal aide. A petite woman with soft features, she possessed a keen wit behind her blue eyes, not to mention a remarkable skill at scrounging and dealing with the Munitorum. She also had a tendency to change hair colours like some people changed their wardrobes. Her current choice was a shade of vivid deep purple.  
She also looked slightly dishevelled. The jacket looked like she had put it on in a hurry, several buttons still undone. Her short hair, a tangled mess on average, looked like a churned up field. Judging by her flushed appearance, not to mention the pleased smirk on her face she seemed unable to get rid of, he had his inklings about what that distraction had been.

“Where to, sir?” Nix asked after getting herself seated behind the wheel. There was a mirthful sparkle in her eyes as she looked at him through the rearview mirror. “The Norfair maybe?”

A mischievous smile ghosted her lips before she spoke again. “Or perhaps the Wink and Tickle?”

Norfair was a lounge club he regularly visited for the food, meanwhile the Wink and Tickle was a popular upper-class brothel. He resisted the urge to sigh at his aide’s impish remarks and gave her a brief exasperated look instead. 

“Maybe some other time Nix,” He replied to humor her. “To the Lighthouse in this case.”

The Lighthouse was what everyone called the Imperial Navy base in the city. Situated just off the coast, it sat on an artificial island, its dominant feature being a towering spire that rose above the ones on land; as if the Navy had been keen to overcompensate for some imaginary shortcoming. It also had another, less flattering, name; the Lightning Magnet.

The trip to the spire was quiet and quick, traffic was light because of the storm, insignificant small talk filling the air between the two. By now she had unbuttoned her coat completely, the only thing holding it together was the sash. The outline of her bra was visible underneath the white undershirt, that garment equally struggling to contain her chest. He caught tantalizing glimpses of skin and cleavage between undone buttons as she cooly languished in her seat.  
A pair of armsmen, autoguns held underneath rain ponchos that dripped with rainwater, stopped them at the gate to the entrance tunnel to the base. Neither of them looked like they wanted to be pulling guard duty in this weather. One guard glanced inside the car, then visibly blanched as they noticed Tarriel sitting next to him. With a quick motion, the gate went up, and they were through. In the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the guard giving him a look of pity before they quickly returned to the shelter.  
The central spire filled the view from the front window as they emerged onto the island proper. While he had been at the Lighthouse previously, it looked different when approached from the ground rather than from the air. Lumens lit up massive statues of saints and heroes positioned in recesses around the base. It all looked overly gaudy, he thought as the car came to a halt at the foot of the stairs leading to the entrance. Statues of dramatically posed naval captains flanked either side, their drawn swords crossing above the large doors. The servant waiting to greet them gave Nix a brief annoyed look as she intercepted him and opened the passenger door to let them step out. 

His eyes briefly lingered on Tarriel’s shapely rear as she began ascending the stairs, snapping orders to the servant, before returning his attention to his aide in the driver’s seat.  
“Once you return the car to the depot, you can take the rest of the night off.”

He handed her some local bills. “Go get something to eat. Just to spare you from the food at the mess hall.”

“Much appreciated, sir,” Nix responded with a grin as she pocketed the money. Inside her jacket, of all places.

“That’ll be all Nix, I’ll call you for a pickup in the morning.”

“Very well sir, see you tomorrow then,” Her lips curled upwards as her eyes looked past him for a moment. “Or what’s left of you at least.”

He barely had the time to come up with a response before the car had sped away. Shaking his head, he followed the Captain up the steps to the lobby. The doors, made of ebonwood, were easily twice his size. Gold and platinum engravings glimmered dully in the light from lumens, depicting grand battleships plying the void. On either side stood Navy honor guards, dressed in overwrought gilded parade armor and wielding combat shotguns that barely looked used.  
As he passed by, one guard gave him a brief look. It had the same look of pity that enlisted men shared between each other whenever an officer requested their presence.  
The speed at which the guard snapped to attention when Tarriel glanced over her shoulder, as if to make sure he was still following, would have made a Mordian jealous. Pleased at seeing that he was, she strode through the opening doors.  
The Lighthouse acted like a dormitory, administrative building and more for the Imperial Navy. Like any military base worth its name, it never slept. Uniformed personnel and clerks alike moving with a purpose.  
The entrance lobby itself was another gilded affair, but possessed far more restraint than the governor’s mansion. The floor was clean and polished to a near mirror sheen. The air carried with it a scent of incense and floor polish. Hymns played from hidden speakers. Everything meticulously designed to present the best front of the Navy to any visitors.  
He caught up with her at the front desk, situated aptly beneath a giant Navis Imperialis icon on the wall behind it. As if to enforce the point who this place belonged to.

“Your room is ready, Mzl,” the receptionist slid a passkey over the desk towards Tarriel before bowing. She grabbed it without a word, then turning on her heels and headed for the elevators at the back.

“If you require help with something, please call for us.” The comment felt like they had directed it more towards him than her.

Situated several floors up the Lighthouse the room, or suite more accurately, befitted her status. A small foyer opened up into a spacious living room. An L-shaped touch and matching table dominated that part of the suite. While a large panorama window took up the far side of the room, overlooking the bay. Outside the storm continued without remorse, rain running down in small rivers down the window as lightning flashed in the clouds. A globe, most likely depicting Bryyo itself, stood open and revealed its true purpose; a mini bar. Several bottles of amasec waiting for them. The doorway to the bedroom was like an invitation.

But the door had barely closed behind them before she pounced. Brusquely she pushed him up against the wall and with a sharp tug on his collar pulled his face towards her. The kiss tasted of amasec and was exactly the kind he had expected of her, possessive and demanding. Her tongue pushed itself into his mouth like a boarding torpedo and asserted dominance. He grunted in discomfort when he felt one of her knees against his groin, applying pressure to a hard-on that he had felt steadily growing the moment they had stepped into the car.

The intensity of the kiss left him gasping after she pulled away, his head spinning slightly. The reaction appeared to please her. He could feel the heat on his cheeks as his member stiffened between his legs. Tarriel smiled at him like a cat who had just cornered their next meal and was biding their time. In a situation like this, most people would’ve probably buckled and reconsidered their actions. But then again, cowards never lived long in the Guard.  
The fact he didn’t shirk away after that power grab and instead met her gaze appeared to be just what she wanted from him. With a grip around the collar she pulled him into the living room, dimmed lights bathed everything in a dull orange glow, before pulling him close for another kiss. Her hands roamed over his uniformed body in unsubtle ways as their lips pressed up against each other. His own tongue offered a token display of resistance to entice her. There was a sparkle of emotion in her eyes as their lips disconnected.

“I like a man in uniform,” She said as she pressed against him. He inhaled through his nose as her impressive breasts squished against his body. The scent of her perfume invading his sense of smell. The accent in her voice gave the husky words an exotic, but razor sharp, edge to them. “But I’d rather see you without one.”

She appeared to slither out of his reach like a viper, an expectant look on her face. He knew better to question it. She had the look of an officer that had just ordered you to charge an ork with a bayonet and expected you to do it with gusto.  
Smiling confidently, he began unbuttoning his jacket, flinging it onto the couch. The button-up shirt he wore underneath joined it in quick succession. Tarriel’s eyebrow quirked upwards as she saw the myriad of scars covering his chest and arms. Obvious signs of a long and dutiful service in the Guard. A pair of standard issue dog tags hung around his neck on a metal chain.  
Stepping out of his shoes, he kicked them aside into the gloom, thankful he wasn’t wearing his usual combat boots today. His pants pooled around his feet after he undid the belt. A swift shove with a foot swept those aside as well.  
Wearing only his skivvies and socks, he assumed an at ease posture as Tarriel’s eyes unashamedly devoured his body from head to toe.  
She smiled as she slowly undid the sash around her midriff, as if wanting to give him a reward. The rustle of fabric sounded like a sharp rasp in the room's stillness. As the sash fell to the floor, her loose coat hung like drapes over her shoulders and bust.  
Without a word, she turned around and stepped into the bedroom. Her supple shoulders rolled as she shrugged the coat off, letting it fall to the floor.  
His eyes followed the swaying motions of her posterior as she moved, fingers working on the buttons of her shirt. As it too fell to the ground, he could see where the flesh met the obsidian metal of her augmentics, the skin smooth and unblemished and not a mass of scars. The only thing that marred her otherwise flawless backside were a few small scars. He got the impression they were mostly there for show.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Don’t forget the bottle.”  
The smile was inviting, but the subtle sharpness of her voice and the look in her eyes told him he only needed to get one glass.

A king-sized bed dominated the modest bedroom. Despite her state of semi-undress, Tarriel lounged like a queen on top of the silken covers. As he stepped inside, carrying a chilled bottle of amasec, there was an imperious smile on her lips. He placed the bottle on the bedside table before snapping in at ease again.  
Multiple scars marked her chest and stomach. The source for many of them were sharp blades he could tell. He had an idea where they came from, based on what he knew about certain Naval traditions. The only other thing on her skin was a Navy ID marker tattoo above her right breast.  
An expensive black lace bra covered her sizable bosom, the family crest embroidered onto the cups in gold thread and surrounded by ocean waves. The outline of her areolas visible under the semi-transparent material, a hint at what he might see if he behaved. Had it been anyone else, he would’ve most likely pulled that off in a heartbeat to reveal the treasures beneath. But he was here on her terms, so he had to abide.  
Pouring herself a glass, she leaned back against the headrest, gesturing for him to join her on the bed. One of her hands idly drifted down to between her legs briefly as he climbed on the bed. An eyebrow arched upwards in apparent surprise when he pulled down the zipper on her knee-length boots using only his teeth. Those, alongside her silken socks, he threw to the side before leaning closer towards her face.  
But she simply shook her head at him. Seeing his attempt at insubordination more humorous than anything, she pushed his head down towards her chest with a firm hand, subtly telling him it was time to get to work.  
To his slight surprise he discovered her body was completely devoid of hair, her skin having a strange, almost smooth, feeling to it as his lips came into contact with it. Brushing it away as an effect of living in the void or another, he began delivering light kisses across the tops of her breasts. Feeling the slightly salty twang of sweat on his tongue. One of Tarriel’s hands held a firm grip in his dark auburn hair until she felt satisfied that he knew what he was doing. His lips trailed a path of light kisses over her breasts before venturing down over her abdomen towards her groin. Tarriel looked down impassively as he began worshipping her body, a pleased smile on her face as she leaned back to enjoy her drink  
As his hands slid over her taut stomach, towards the hem of her pants, he covered the area with kisses. He grunted when he felt one of her feet press up against his groin, her toes rubbing up against the growing hard on as if to encourage him to work faster. Or just to tease with him. Her aloof expression made her intentions unclear.  
She slightly raised her hips as he hooked his fingers around the hem of her pants to let him slowly peel them off her, before discarding them to the side. She wore a pair of matching black lace briefs, subtle naval themed embroideries adorning the sheer material. Leaning in close between her spread legs, he pressed his lips against her mound in a reverent kiss, feeling the heat emanating from underneath the garment. Tarriel hiding a quiet moan behind her glass.  
He slid the briefs up her long and slender legs, delivering kisses on the insides of her thighs and shins. The garment disappeared off to the side and left her only wearing her bra. There was a noticeable flush spreading over her body, the skin around her chest darkening slowly. 

He set up straight in the bed, folding his arms behind his back, and looking straight forward. “Permission to come aboard, Captain.”

A smile crept on her face as she swirled around the amasec in her glass for a few moments to let him linger.  
“Permission… _granted_ , Major,” The words rolled off her lips with a pleased purr. 

Snapping off a crisp salute, he laid down between her legs. As the tip of his tongue briefly brushed by her folds, she let out a subdued gasp. The area around her sex slightly flushed with arousal. He gently spread the lips apart, revealing the bright pink flesh underneath. She tried to keep herself composed, but he could feel her body tensing up as he pressed his lips against her vulva. Her breath hitched quietly as his tongue travelled up the length of the slit. There was a distinct tart taste to her juices as he began flicking his tongue.  
He glanced upwards, seeing Tarriel leant back against the bed with a satisfied expression on her face. She idly caressed a bra clad breast as she sipped her amasec and enjoyed the show.  
He could feel one of her legs pressing his head up against her crotch as he continued, an obvious sign of encouragement to put some more effort into it. As his tongue prodded at her labia, he heard her gasp and her body twitched. Her other leg pressing into his side. Emboldened by her reaction, he got to work, his tongue moving and down and lavishing each wrinkle and fold with licks and kisses. The tongue travelled in wide loops around her steadily aroused sex, gradually working his way down to the center in a slow spiral. Whenever it brushed by her clit at the apex of its loop, she cooed or sighed. Relying on an old trick, he began writing various letters and words across her sex. Tarriel made appreciative noises whenever his tongue came across an extra sensitive spot.  
Slowly but steadily he learned how to read her reactions; where a flick of the tongue would elicit the biggest reaction, or where a brief tug or kiss made her shudder.  
It wasn’t long until he had taken the tongue writing a step further, spelling out various prayers and benedictions. He was pretty certain that the regimental priests would’ve declared him a heretic if they learned of that.  
He glanced up at her again as he delivered kisses to the insides of her thighs. There was a noticeable flush on her face by now, and the steel in her eyes was subdued by the desire in her eyes as she looked down at him. She dragged a hand through his short hair, firmly pushing his face up against her crotch. A long, drawn out hiss slipped from her lips as he wrapped his lips around her clit. The sound ended abruptly with a sharp gasp when he worshipped the erect nub with his tongue, giving it repeated licks and flicks.

The cracks in her facade were showing, the effects of his oral assault on her sex becoming more obvious as he wrote out page after page of scripture on her pussy. It was the way her hips twitched whenever he brushed over a sensitive spot, or how her moans and gasps got louder the more time went on. Juices flowed freely from her slit, the area around her sex flushed dark with arousal. The fact she kept herself composed despite everything was a testament to her powerful will.

The exertion made his tongue feel wooly and numb, but she showed no signs of wanting him to stop. Encouraging him to continue in various ways; sometimes it was a hand on the back of his head or against his neck, other times she scissored his head in the hollow of her knee when her hands were busy. Or wrapping her legs around his head to keep him in place.  
The amasec bottle was about half empty when she went over to openly moaning and gasping from his ministrations. Her bra clad breasts jiggled whenever she twitched or bucked. His jaw ached dully, and the only thing he could taste on his tongue were her juices.  
A firm hand pulled him away from her crotch, his lips and chin glistening.

Tarriel gave him an approving look. “You did well,” There was a razor sharp undercurrent to her voice as she spoke, and barely a hint of a slur to it. “Now, strip.”

He climbed off the bed, wiping her juices off his face with the back of his hand. She played with one of her bra straps as she observed him pulling off his socks, then followed by his boxers down in front of her. The satisfied smile on her face grew slightly as his semi-erect cock emerged, clearly pleased with her choice once again.  
The shaft was as wide as about three of her fingers, side by side, if not wider. Its girth was comparable to an unpeeled banana. It had a lazy curve to it, even when semi-erect, like the grip of an Eldar sword. A large, noticeable vein idly snaked up the length of the shaft on one side. Even when not standing at full height, it was still an impressive specimen of male genitalia.

Naked as the day he was born, he snapped to attention in front of her. “Permission to get a drink.”

Her eyes devoured his body as she lingered with the response for a moment. “Permission granted,” There was a smile on her lips. “You have… twenty seconds.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the minibar, considering his options for a moment before replying. “Yes, ma’am.”

A good soldier always had a backup plan, so he went for the closest thing and swiftly grabbed the amasec bottle on the nightstand and took a hefty swing from it. In any other situation, that would’ve been a massive breach of etiquette. The alcohol burned slightly as it went down his throat, but he had drunk worse rot gut on the field.  
There was a flicker of surprise on Tarriel’s face. But there was also something that gave the impression that his quick thinking impressed her. 

Climbing back onto the bed, he moved closer, only to find himself stopped by a firm foot against his chest. Smiling at him, Tarriel shook her head and pushed him backwards. Reading the obvious signals, he sat down on his haunches, slowly jerking life back into his dormant member as she rose on her knees and approached.  
Grabbing the back of his head, she pushed his face against her bosom, as if rewarding him for a job well done. He immediately began covering them with kisses, hands kneading them gently. 

As he poured his adoration onto her chest she straddled him, both of them gasping as the cockhead came into contact with her slit. The gasp turned into a mingled groan as she guided the head towards her opening, one of his hands helping the shaft between her lips.  
Her velvet tunnel clamped around his shaft like a power fist, and he grunted as she sank down on his lap. Abandoning his worship of her breasts, he leaned back on his hands and saw the look on her face. The message was as clear as if it had come from the Emperor himself.  
Don’t. Move.  
Her hips rolled back and forth as she moved, the shaft slipping further and further inside of her passage with each push downwards. He gasped slightly as the warm and wet feeling of her folds fully engulfed his member. It wasn’t long until she had gotten herself into a preferred rhythm.  
As she moved her hips, her body bounced tantalizingly on his lap, Tarriel gasping and moaning mostly under her breath. Each thrust sent ripples of motions through her breasts. There was a look of obvious superiority in her eyes, establishing once again that he was hers to play with for the night. One of her hands slid over his chest in a possessive manner, before she leaned closer and pressed her lips against his in a domineering kiss. He grunted into her mouth as he felt her pinch one of his nipples sharply, a smirk on her face as she pulled away.

She gyrated her hips against him as she leaned back and picked up the pace. Her pelvis grinding against his, the muscles in her abdomen flexing as she moved. He gritted his teeth and grunted as he felt her walls clench around his shaft. The reaction brought a haughty smile onto her face as she redoubled her efforts for a while before she pulled herself upwards with a hand around his neck. Her breasts swayed in front of his face as she resumed bouncing on his lap.

The cock glistened with her juices as she dismounted him suddenly, and in one fluid motion Tarriel went down on all fours in front of him. A glance over her shoulder and a slight shake of her hips told him to get to work. He carefully shuffled closer towards her prone form, his erect member jutting out like a gun barrel from his crotch.  
He guided the head towards her entrance, the well-lubricated parts working together without issue as it slipped inside of her. The two sharing another quiet gasp as they made contact. A sharp glance from her told him to keep his hands out of reach, and he clasped them behind his back. The urge to grab hold of her scratched at the back of his mind like a persistent insect bite.  
Steadying herself with a hand on his thigh, she rocked herself back and forth. Another quiet moan coming from her as the shaft pushed deeper and deeper.  
Giving in to the urge, he spanked her lightly on one cheek as he moved. Her reaction was instantaneous as she stopped and gave him a look that could’ve taught a Commissar a thing or two.  
She sat up on her knees, a coy smirk on her lips as she moved closer. Tarriel shook her head as she pushed him down onto the bed with a firm hand on his chest. Showing her obvious displeasure at his insolence. Even if the mischievous spark in her eyes softened the expression. Straddling him, she pinned his arms above his head and leaned closer. 

“Are you getting coy with me, Major?” She smirked at him, her voice a husky drawl.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Captain.” He replied stoically. Even if the corners of his mouth twitched as he spoke. 

Still smirking at him, she sat up, Tarriel’s fingers sliding over his muscular arms and chest. His cock snuggly nestled between the cleft of her asscheeks, and she slid backwards just to watch him grimace as her pussy slid over his sensitive shaft.  
Sitting up, she guided it towards her slit again, moaning as it pushed inside. Their pelvises made brief contact as she hilted herself before she moved. The motions were eager as she bounced on top of him, moving with enough force to make the bed bounce. Moans flowed unashamedly from her as the tempo of her motions increased. Hands caressing and groping her body, sliding over her stomach before cupping her breasts, as if to taunt him. As if she wanted to show him what his display of defiance had denied him, at least for the moment. He briefly wondered, as he looked up at her bouncing on top of him, if the woman would ever consider someone her equal. Or if her own ego simply prevented that.  
Whenever he attempted to move his hands closer towards her, she rebuked him. Gingerly swatting them away and forcibly moving them back to above his head.  
A grunt eked past his lips when she suddenly slowed down, the walls of her pussy gripping around his shaft. Her motions were slow and deliberate as her hands roamed over his body. Metal fingers raking over his skin and through his hair as she rolled and gyrated her hips. She looked down at him with disdain, but the emotion mollified by the unmistakable look of pure need and desire on her face.  
He gasped when she suddenly slammed her hips down against his, eagerly grinding herself against him for a moment. The motion sending faint ripples through her body. Then, as if nothing had happened, she resumed the same intense bouncing rhythm as before.  
She repeated this pattern, again, and again, and again. The strange stop and go rhythm tore at his endurance as the alternating stimuli made him creep towards orgasm. The woman was light, but she moved with the same relentlessness as a Leman Russ.  
Slowing down for a while, her hips rolling and grinding against him, she poured herself another glass of amasec as she fucked him. There was a naughty smile on her lips after she had almost drained the glass, then she poured what remained into his mouth. She then went back at it with renewed vigour, clearly feeling refreshed.

The air was warm and heavy with the scent of sex and sweat. The sounds of their intense fucking, the slapping of flesh against each other, grunts and moans, mingled with the noise of creaking bedsprings and rocking bed.  
Tarriel’s hips had gained a sultry roll to them as she moved with the same unrelenting purpose. Any notion of lovemaking or such was long gone. This was a woman getting an itch scratched. A relief of frustrations through carnal means, and he was merely a tool for her to achieve that. In the back of his mind he felt used, but he’d be lying if he had not used escorts and others in similar ways in the past. So he could sympathise with her and simply let it be.  
Her hands hung limply by her side as she let her body move. All the while she looked down at him with that constant look of superiority, silently telling him she owned him for the night. It wasn’t a callous gaze, as if he was not worth the ground she walked on. That was a look he had seen many times before, both amongst nobles and other officers, and it more than often filled him with resentment. But beneath the superiority and confidence there was a measure of respect for him in her eyes. While she might not treat him as an equal, there was no clear disdain or derision in the way she saw him.  
Considering him suitably cowed, she allowed his hands to travel up her smooth thighs and supple hips. To his surprise, she allowed them to travel even farther up her body, and she moaned as he cupped her breasts. His fingers sinking into the firm and pliable flesh.  
Surprising him, she undid the clasp of her bra without a word, and he inadvertently gasped in surprise as she revealed them. Her breasts were large, perfectly formed handfuls and had just the right weight in his hands, each one capped with a coin sized areola. The nipples inverted.  
Smiling, the gesture not without some warmth, she leaned closer and pressed her breasts against his face. He did what anyone would do when presented with such an opportunity and began covering them with kisses and nibbles. He could feel her shudder and gasp as he teased out a nipple from its hiding place. The thing emerged after some goading and before long both her nipples stood out like small bunkers on top of her hills. All the while she kept moving, alternating between bouncing in his lap or slowly gyrating her hips, as he worshiped her body with his lips and hands. Her hands dragged through his short hair while letting out various noises of appreciation at his efforts.

She kept a slow roll to her hips, his hands busy with kneading her breasts as she reached for the amasec bottle on the table. There was a brief look of disappointment as she realized it was dry. A hand pushing him down onto the bed told him to stop, and with obvious reluctance she climbed off him. 

“Keep that thing going soldier, I’ll be right back.”

He resisted the urge to give her a snappy salute as he slowly jerked the sticky shaft to the alluring sight of her naked body walking into the living room.  
It wasn’t long before she returned, another bottle in her hand. But no second glass. She leered at the sight of him lying outstretched on the bed, a hand around his girthy shaft as she slowly stroked it. His cock appeared to perk up as she saw her standing in the doorway. Her skin was heavily flushed at places, the faint sheen of perspiration covering it glistened in the light that shone in from the windows. The many scars she bore only appeared to improve her attractiveness. Once again, the notion of him feeling like a gnarled tree in a rose garden came to him briefly as he admired her.  
There was a seductive roll to her hips as she approached the bed, as if she was indulging them both at that moment. Her eyes barely seemed to leave him as she poured herself another glass. The gaze drifted towards the hand steadily going up and down around his shaft.  
Sipping on her glass as her eyes devoured him for a moment before putting the glass down and climbing back onto the bed. The springs barely creaked underneath as she moved towards him. Leaning against the headrest, he looked at her with a faint smile. Something which she reciprocated, albeit more smugly.

“Now then,” she spoke huskily, a finger dragging playfully across his chest. “Where were we again?”

Grabbing both his arms, she moved them behind his head before sinking down on her knees between his legs. She gave his cock a close look, the thing barely keeping itself upright despite its turgid state. Fully erect, it possessed enough girth and length to make most women who saw it think twice. But Tarriel looked at it with the air of someone who had plenty of experience handling such beasts.

As she pursed her lips and blew gently on it, a gasp slipped past his lips. Tarriel took obvious delight at his reaction to the cool air brushing against the sensitive head. His cock twitched as she slowly dragged her tongue up its entire length. As she completed the motion, letting the head slip between her supple lips, he inhaled sharply.  
Tarriel’s cheeks caved inwards as she applied suction, his fists clenching behind his head as he felt her tongue caress the underside of the shaft. Keeping one of her hands wrapped around the base, she moved her head in slow and steady motions. Her tongue pressing up against the underside of the shaft as she moved, its presence sending shudders up his back.  
Her bobbing motions turned shallow, focusing on the plump crown, as the hand around the shaft firmly stroked it. The sensation of cold metal against his cock, combined with the hot and wet mouth, sent ripples of gooseflesh up his legs and arms and he groaned loudly.  
With a soft plop, she pulled away. There was a mischievous sparkle in her eyes and the smile on her lips seemed to promise him that this was merely the beginning.  
Her tongue made the trip to the head again, tongue playing with the crown for a moment before she wrapped her lips around it. But instead of taking it deeper, she pulled away and teased her tongue up the length a second time before engulfing it and moving her head in rhythm with her hand. He hissed as she let her tongue swirl around the tip as her hand stroked the shaft with vigour.  
But the hiss turned to a gasp when she suddenly stopped and pushed her head forwards, taking a considerable amount of the shaft into her mouth. He could feel the shaft almost slide down her gullet, Tarriel’s throat making no sound of protest at that.  
Her lips kissed the top of the hand around the shaft for a moment before she pulled up, leaving a trail of saliva coating his cock in its wake, which she then cleaned up with her tongue as it slid upwards.  
She switched positions. He grunted when he felt her breasts press up against his thigh as she straddled one of his legs. His eyes drifting towards her raised posterior for a moment as her lips and tongue slid up and down his length. By now his testicles had drawn closer towards his body, pressure building up in his crotch as she continued to tease his shaft.  
He moaned quietly as her lips wrapped around the shaft again, resuming the same strong pace as she had before. Tarriel looked up at him and he met her gaze firmly. His response appeared to spur her on as she pulled off to tongue the shaft, delivering a quick kiss to the tip before smirking up at him as she let the tip flick at the crown rapidly. The gesture made him lean back against the bed with a groan. There was a noise from her that sounded almost like a chuckle, but the sound cut off as she engulfed the shaft again.

Tarriel teased and goaded the member for what seemed like minutes to him, alternating between stroking it as she bobbed up and down over the head. Or letting her tongue and lips wander up and down its length. Between his legs the pressure built, and he tried to focus his mind on other things to prevent triggering an early climax. Even then his gaze drifted down to between his legs, or to her firm rear that almost begged for him to grope.  
When she once again took most of his shaft into his mouth, the motion happened so suddenly; he groaned deeply. Tarriel humming delightfully at his reaction as she swallowed in rapid succession.  
Brief strings of saliva connected her lips with the head of his cock as she pulled away, the entire shaft glistening wetly from a good coating of it. She paused for a moment to admire her handiwork. She added a quick dollop of spit to the glistening head, as if wanting to add a finishing touch, before diving at it again to tease the shaft with her lips.  
With her hand she smeared out more saliva on the shaft, the cock glistening from root to crown like a pillar of marble.  
She smoothly repositioned back to a position between his legs, with the same firm grip around his shaft she leaned closer. Wrapping her lips around the crown, and making him groan, she dipped her head forwards shallowly to tease it twice. Then she pushed forwards and let it slip past her lips, her mouth and hand working in tandem in the same furious and seemingly tireless pace as before.  
As she worked his cock, his breathing was getting laboured, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as he could feel the climax come creeping in the background. Flowing at such an intensity, he wasn’t sure he could hold it back. Between his legs, Tarriel smeared out another dollop of spit on his throbbing shaft with a hand before attacking it with her lips. Her motions fell into a pattern in how she worked the shaft with her mouth and hand, the other one never leaving its spot on his thigh. As if to ensure he would not try to get up or anything. All the while, as her hand stroked him as her lips engulfed the crown, he could feel her tongue teasing the head and the slit.  
The hand around the base of the shaft suddenly slid down to his other thigh as her mouth sunk deeper and deeper on his shaft. He could feel her mouth working around his cock as she took more and more of it into her mouth and down her throat. She wasn’t able to take it all before she had to pull away, even then there was a victorious look on her face. As if it was something she did to every cock she went down on. Thin ropes of saliva connecting the two for a moment, a string of drool flowing unnoticed from her lips as she wetted her lips before going at it again. The hand returned to its position near the base of the shaft. By now his cock appeared to throb aggressively in her grip, the large vein standing out clearly against the saliva coated skin. This only seemed to spur her onwards as she continued to kiss and lap at the shaft, never stopping moving at the same hard and fast pace. Whenever she looked up at him, there was a mirthful look in her eyes, obviously enjoying each groan and gasps coming from him. The way his face twitched and grimaced as he was trying to hold back his climax.  
Catching her breath for a moment, she smiled up at him before going at it again. His breath got caught in his throat as she bobbed up and down at a furious pace. Hands balling into fists once more. The capstone, her pushing her head down on his shaft until her lips met the hand; he groaned between clenched teeth. The pressure between his legs begging for release meant that he tried to flex every muscle imaginable to prevent from happening. 

With a smile that almost bordered on cruel, she took her time to smear out a thick dollop of saliva onto the shaft with her hand before resuming stroking the shaft. Soon her hand was almost a blur as the mechanical hand went up and down on the slick shaft, fleshy wet noises filling the air between them as he panted and gasped at the intense sensations. Throwing his head back against the pillow, he could feel her tongue brushing against the tip as she tried to coax out his load.  
She met his eyes as she continued to stroke him, her flying up and down the shaft, the tip of her tongue resting against the very tip of his cock. There was a look of “Do it if you dare” in her eyes as she looked at him. There was a tiny bead of precome forming at the slit, but its appearance was brief before it disappeared. His stomach clenched and flexed as he panted and groaned, trying to prevent the release for as long as he could. Tarriel’s hand continued rapidly stroking the shaft, mechanical fingers holding fast onto the member as it jerked and twitched.  
He knew it was a race he couldn’t win, but that would not stop him from giving it his best shot either way. His heart beat like a marching drum in his chest, his breathing rapid and shallow as the intensive stimuli assaulted his senses.

Then the dam suddenly broke and with a drawn-out groan he could feel something between his legs go pop. The first load raced up the length of the shaft like a lump of hot lead before it launched out from the slit. The shot splattering on her stroking hand and on his pelvis. But the groan turned into a sharp gasp as Tarriel struck, a pair of fingers encircling the base of his cock and clamping around tightly to prevent the next load from leaving. He grunted and groaned, hands clenching and unclenching, as the pressure between his legs reached a fever pitch. He could feel the next load pushing against her grip to a painful point.  
Then as quickly as it came, the feeling subsided and he let out a breath. He didn’t realize he had been holding in all this time. Looking satisfied, Tarriel let go of her grip around the base of his cock, leaving a red mark on the skin. With the blockage suddenly gone there, a trickle of semen seeped from the slit. The milky fluid ran down the shaft until Tarriel wrapped her lips around it to lap it up.  
He gasped as she busied herself with cleaning the sensitive shaft with her mouth and tongue. Satisfied it was clean, she stuck a sticky digit into her mouth, with a coy smile licked her fingers clean off the mix of saliva and semen that coated them. 

“Well done, Major,” Tarriel remarked once she considered her fingers clean. The tone to her voice nonchalant, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he had impressed her. “You lasted longer than I expected.”

He gave her a weak smile instead of a witty retort. His mouth felt like ancient parchment and his body buzzed from the climax.  
Between his legs, the member throbbed in rhythm to his wild heartbeat, even if he was showing some signs of wilting. The intense climax having robbed it of its strength. But after some encouragement from Tarriel, alongside a hefty sip from the nearby amasec bottle, it showed signs of getting its strength back.  
Straddling him, she sat facing away from him, presenting her firm rear as she grabbed hold of his cock to guide it towards her slit. Both of them moaned together as they made contact.  
She started out slowly, as if she was letting him relax for a moment. But that moment was brief as it did not take long for her motions to resume that same pattern as before, fast, merciless and needy. Loud moans and gasps flowed freely from her mouth as she bounced on top of him. His eyes following the motions of her rump as it slammed down on his pelvis. Each impact rocking his body and making the bed bounce slightly.  
She sat up on her feet, her hips barely stopping to move, to allow herself to push against him more energetically..  
He leaned back, trying to keep himself composed as he watched her fuck. The previous climax had helped him reset the pressure between his legs. But her eagerness, and the way she flexed the walls of her sex around his still sensitive member, was quickly doing its thing to build it up again.

In a remarkable feat of dexterity that would make the average stripper envious, Tarriel spun around on top of him, never letting his cock slip out of her pussy at the same time. Hilting herself on it, she gyrated her slowly as she reached for her glass. As she sipped on her amasec, he could see the same predatory look in her eyes from before.  
With one swift movement, she drained the last of her glass. Casually she put it aside and leaned closer towards him. She dragged her fingers across his chest as her hips gyrated and rolled, kegel muscles flexing around his shaft as she did. His eyes drifting towards her breasts as they dangled in front of him alluringly, the motions of her body making them jiggle against each other. That motion increased as she began humping him again, Tarriel moaning at each impact of their pelvises.  
Her eyes bored into his as she looked down at him, the woman keeping herself close enough that it was a tantalizing offer to reach out and grab her. In vain he tried to close the distance between them, but with a playful smirk she pushed him back with a firm hand on his chest. His head falling back onto the stack of pillows with a resigned thump. Not that it stopped him from trying again and again to play with her and indulge her a little.  
But despite the constant denial and playing around between them, they were still close enough that they could feel each other’s heated breaths washing against their skin. Exertion taking its toll on their collective stamina.  
The air inside the bedroom felt hot and stagnant, their bodies covered in a sheen of perspiration. The sounds of their fucking a constant background noise alongside their heavy breathing as they moved against each other. By this point he figured her rule was flexible enough to let him move against her, and she showed no hesitation to shut him down for doing it. His own motions driving her onwards, Tarriel wanting to prove her the better of the two. A sexual tug of war quickly developed between the two as one action created a counteraction as they played off each other.  
Giving into the temptation, he let his fingers slid up both of her legs. Calloused fingers gently caressing her supple calves. The sudden touch made her flinch, but she wiped the smile off his face as she pettily twisted one of his nipples as payback.  
His cock felt oddly impatient and twitchy. As if it was itching for a payback for the orgasm she had denied it earlier. He recited various prayers in the back of his mind to keep his mind focused to prevent the pressure, or need to climax, to overwhelm him.  
Looking at Tarriel, he could see she was getting close as well. Despite her composure and cool exterior, the eagerness of her motions betrayed her. Alongside the glassy look in her eyes, and the way she was almost chipping for breath. Either she was staving off her climax as much as she could or was diving headlong towards it.

The sensation struck her faster than she expected as she suddenly pinned his arms above his head, her hips bucking against frantically. The sounds of her moans mingling with the noises of flesh slapping against flesh. A hand drifted down to grab him by the throat. The pressure she applied was light, but it was an obvious display of dominance and control.  
In that moment, he couldn’t help but to think she was absolutely breathtaking; her caramel coloured skin glistened with sweat, the look of power in her eyes and the confident smile on her lips as she used him.  
Her climax was a quiet affair, the only audible sign of it was a slight hitch of her breath as she inhaled. But joined by the hips as they were, he could feel her body tense up as her orgasm blossomed. Her hips spasmed against his, and he gritted his teeth as her velvet tunnel contracted around his shaft. Her mask slipped for a moment as her face first scrunched together in a grimace before falling slack. Even then, there was something regal or noble about her. Her body trembled briefly before it went rigid, her toes curling tightly inwards. He could feel the arm around his throat clenching, the machine-spirits in it getting overloaded by her climax.  
But then, as if someone had suddenly pulled the ripcord on her parachute, it was over. She exhaled sharply, shoulders slumping from the exertion. Panting heavily, she dragged a hand through her short hair before climbing off. The hard edges of her demeanour softened by the warm glow that surrounded her. An amused smile growing on her lips as she looked down at him and noticed he was still hard.  
Meanwhile, he felt strange as he could feel his entire body buzzing from the climax waiting around the corner. His breathing felt strained as the pressure within him boiled like a volcano. Drops of pre-come sliding down the length of it from the leaking slit.

Tarriel refilled her glass, taking her time to do so. She leant back to rest on one arm, looking like a pleased governess as she lounged on the bed. Hiding a smile behind her glass, she looked at him and his still erect cock. The thing looked like an askew dark red marble pillar as it rose from his crotch at a slight angle. Even if it was showing signs of deflating-

He grunted as she suddenly swung one slender leg around and pressed a foot against his cock, starting from the base the foot slid up the entire length of it as she pressed it against his stomach. The member began to stiften as the foot slud back and forth over it. She looked at him with an aloof stare, as if she was grinding a discarded lho-stick stub into the ground. Sipping on her drink, she watched as the shaft throbbed aggressively from her strokes. A steadily increasing flow of precome dripping from the tip and down onto his stomach.  
The foot slid downwards, toes pressing against his ballsack for a moment before moving upwards. He let out another grunt as she clasped the member between her well-manicured toes.  
As he continued to moan and squirm, the corners of her mouth curled upwards behind her glass, obviously enjoying the way he reacted to her ministrations.  
Her toes quickly glistened from the juices that coated the shaft as they moved. By now he was breathing sharply through his nose, a painted grunt coming from him when her other foot, almost casually, joined in to massage his testicles.  
But that was only briefly as she contended herself with letting only one of them play with his cock. The big toe pressing against the cumvein on the underside, as if she wanted to coax out the load he was having an increasingly tough time holding back. Noticing his reaction, she applied more pressure. The ball of her foot slid slowly over his shaft and testicles. Sometimes moving back and forth, other times moving in slow circles or toying with a specific spot with her big toe.

When she suddenly pinched the shaft with her toes, he inhaled sharply. The sudden stab of pain distracted him and brought him over the edge. He grunted when he felt the tension in between his legs suddenly breaking free with a dull snap. There was the feeling yet again of a ball of hot lead running up the length of his shaft before it forced its way out from the slit with what felt like a pop.  
As he came, the member visibility throbbed underneath Tarriel’s foot. His eyes jammed shut as he threw his head back against the pillow with a wordless gasp. The first shot splattered on his stomach above the navel, painting his stomach with strings of off-white. The second shot exited with just about the same intensity, his body clearly intent on releasing the pent up energy from his denied climax. The third shot got entangled in the hair around his pelvis, whilst the last one merely dribbled out from the tip and got stuck in his pubic hair.  
Looking satisfied with her work, Tarriel casually wiped her sticky foot on his thigh. The towel she threw at him to let himself clean up almost felt like a second thought.

“I hope I didn’t wear you out too much, Major,” She said with a sultry smirk as she looked at him gasping rapidly for air. 

Once again he grabbed the amasec bottle on the table to take a hefty swing from it to give a measure of moisture back to his parched mouth. “Of course not,” he replied with a confident smile. They build drop troopers from sterner stuff.”

The predatory glint in her eyes returned. “Good.”

When he came to, several hours later, his body ached in places that reminded him of bootcamp.  
The bed was a mess, the bedroom itself was in no better state as well. Sunlight streamed through the windows. He got a brief mental image of him fucking Tarriel against those windows what felt several hours earlier. By now the storm was long since gone, the weather clear enough to see far out over the ocean that stretched out beyond the bay.  
Tarriel appeared to be practically glowing as she stood in the doorway to the adjacent bathroom. From inside, he could hear water running.

“Good morning Major,” the woman sounded remarkably chipper. “Care to join me in the shower?”

Once again, the words weren’t a question as much as a thinly veiled order. Giving her his best affable smile, he rose out of bed. “Well, I’d hate to let the warm water go to waste.”

He found Nix waiting for him in the corridor outside. For how long she had been waiting there, or how she even got there in the first place, he didn’t even want to think about. She snapped off a crisp salute when she saw him step outside. Unlike him, she looked well rested.

She grinned at him, her voice loaded with humor. “So you made it through in one piece, sir.”

“Good morning to you too, Nix,” He replied dryly. “So what’s on the itinerary today?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but then she gave him a closer look. Without another word she pulled out a handkerchief from one of her many pockets. Dampening it against her lips, she took a quick step towards him.

“Wait, what are you-”

He didn’t have time to say much else before she began cleaning his left cheek. Once she finished she took a step back. The handkerchief coloured a dark red, the colour of Tarriel’s lipstick.

Nix smiled at him, “There’s a new uniform waiting for you in the car, sir. Thought you might need it.”


End file.
